


Save the Date

by reve_silencieux



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 23:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6774235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reve_silencieux/pseuds/reve_silencieux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara's past comes to light, and Neal comes to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save the Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sheenianni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheenianni/gifts).



> This is set vaguely after _Pulling Strings_.

Neal was most certainly _not_ snooping. However, if something caught his eye… well, he couldn’t be held accountable for what was in plain sight, especially something so… shiny. Really, people should know better. The envelope was pale blue, pearlescent, and shimmered under the light. Sara’s name and address were printed in an elegant scroll which, if Neal didn’t know better, appeared to be done by hand.

But he did know better. He knew good calligraphy and this was just a poor imitation, printed by computer.

He picked it up, feeling the weight of the paper and the smoothness, acknowledging that at least they had used a good stock, even if it was all for show. Curious (and slightly hopeful that she had received an invitation to attend an exhibit opening), he slid the card out of the envelope. (It _was_ already open.) Made of similar blue cardstock, although slightly heavier, it was decorated with silver gilded edges and delicate embossed swirls adorning the corners.

Neal quickly read the few lines of _printed_ text, and grinned.

“Can I be your plus one?”

“Excuse me?”

He held up the card, a “Save the Date” for one Amanda Sandoval and Robert Armstrong, and watched as comprehension flickered across her face.

 _"Neal!"_ She crossed the kitchen in a few long strides and snatched the card from his hand. "That’s private."

"Really?" He smirked. "A wedding invitation? I wouldn't call that highly confidential information."

She shot him a thunderous glare. "It's my mail, Neal. I don't go through yours."

Shrugging, he didn't bother to explain that he never really got any mail that he had to worry about. "It was open, and I had hoped it was an invitation to the latest exhibit at the Met." He paused and cocked his head to the side, looking at her curiously.

“So, are you a friend of the bride or the groom?”

Tucking the card back in the envelope, Sara sighed. "Bride. She was my college roommate."

"Oh, really? Are you two still in touch?"

"No, I haven't heard from her in years," Sara replied tersely, dropping the envelope on the table and walking back to the kitchen, effectively trying to end the conversation.

Neal followed, not ready to let it go. Learning anything about Sara's past was like pulling teeth. Of course, he understood the desire to keep some things private, but a college roommate was a far cry from some of the secrets of his past.

 _Unless_... He grinned. Perhaps it was something embarrassing?

"If the two of you were arrested for streaking, it's okay. Elizabeth did it, too." He leaned against the counter and shrugged. "It's college, that's the time to do crazy stuff."

Sara turned and glared at him again. "No." Picking up the knife on the cutting board, she went back to chopping an onion for the salad she was putting together. "Did you ever think that, maybe, I just don't want to relive that period of my life?” She sliced the onion with a hard _thwack_. Neal jumped. 

Maybe he should have offered to make the salad in addition to picking up dinner. He also should have reconsidered egging her on since she had a knife in her hands. Clearly, this was going to take a delicate touch if he wanted her to open up. 

Walking up beside her, he made sure to make his presence known in case he spooked her, and carefully took the knife from her. Her shoulders sagged and she sighed, bracing her hands on the counter.

“It can’t be that bad,” he said softly. “I might not have gone to college—officially—but I’m pretty sure whatever you did, knowing you, was not as bad as what I was doing during that time.”

She laughed and shook her head. “It wasn’t bad. It’s just… well…” She turned around and leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “College was… well, it’s when I really grew up. My parents had wanted me to stay in-state, but I wanted to leave. I loved them, but after Emily…”

“They were afraid to lose you,” he supplied.

Sara nodded. “I had grown up in her shadow—don’t get me wrong, I loved her—but I needed to find myself.” She chuckled. “That’s what college is about, right? I went to school, and I don’t know if I was trying to prove something to my parents or myself, but I worked really hard.”

The corner of his mouth curled upwards. “Now, that’s a surprise.”

She swatted his arm.

“So, where does Amanda come in?” he asked. 

“We were roommates freshman year in the dorms, and we hit it off right away. She had two older brothers who were the stars of the family, so she understood me. Together, we thrived in college, finally having the chance to do what we wanted to do without someone overshadowing us. At the same time, we pushed each other in everything.”

She shrugged. “Sure, we were competitive, but we both knew we weren’t _really_ having to compete for anything. It didn’t matter who was better or got the higher grade. I guess, given our pasts, we both wanted to shine, and we cheered each other on. There were no hard feelings.”

“But…” Neal knew something had to have changed.

“But,” she acknowledged with a small nod, “she was the more outgoing one of the two of us. Oh, she tried to get me out more, but I wasn’t one for the raging parties. We roomed together all four years, even as we spent less time together.

“By her third year, she was just going through the motions of college, I could tell. Amanda was smart, but she was having more fun being away from home, dating, you know how it is… She had started off as pre-law, but finished with a communications degree, with no real plan for what to do after college. Honestly, after we graduated, I never heard from her again.”

“Until now.”

“Yes, and what a way to get in touch,” she replied wryly.

Neal raised an eyebrow. “You think she just wants a gift out of all of this? If so, she might have just saved money on the invitation instead. She didn’t need the silver gilding—that’s not cheap.”

She shook her head. “That’s what one normally thinks, right? If only.”

“Okay…” he frowned. “What’s the problem? I mean, it doesn’t sound like there was some big fight or anything.”

“Did you catch the name of the guy she’s marrying?”

“I didn’t recognize him, no.”

She pushed away from the counter and walked across the small kitchen, stopping in front of a cabinet. “Well, if you were to Google him, you would find out that he’s some rich media mogul. Sixty-two years old.” She pulled out two wine glasses, then moved to her small wine rack.

Neal coughed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “That explains the fancy invitation. I take it she’s not registered at Pottery Barn.”

“That goes without saying.” She uncorked the wine with a stiff jerk. “The wedding announcement online said that it’s being held at The Plaza.”

He whistled. “Nice.”

Sara poured the wine and quickly took a long drink. Neal wondered why this invite had upset her so much. Was she jealous of the marriage itself (not of the man, since he knew she wasn’t a gold-digger, no matter how much she enjoyed the finer things in life), or the fact that it was from someone who hadn’t bothered to keep in touch? It wasn’t that uncommon, not with people you grew up with or went to school with.

She hadn’t seemed too torn up about breaking her off engagement with Bryan, nor the type of woman determined to be married by a certain age. In fact, she seemed to enjoy the casual nature of their relationship, despite its ups and downs.

“Are you going?”

She let out a huff. “Why? So she can rub it in my face that she’s marrying a millionaire and doesn’t have to work hard like the rest of us? That it doesn’t matter that she gave up on her law school dreams because she won the lottery in life?”

 _Ahhh_ … and now Neal understood. He picked up his glass and quietly took a sip, thinking how best to handle this.

“I wouldn’t consider marrying some old guy twice one’s age as winning the lottery in life. I’m fairly certain she’s not doing this for love.”

“Obviously,” Sara replied dryly.

He stood in front of her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear gently. “And who says working hard isn’t a good thing? You enjoy your job. Plus, I know you’re not hurting for money. Who else makes nine grand over their lunch break?”

Her shoulders slumped. “I know, I know… it just rankled me. It’s so obvious she wants to show off. And then I look at myself. I _know_ I work too much,” she said, exasperated, and threw up her hands. “What do I have to show for my life? I was engaged to a guy who’s now in jail and I’m dating a guy who used to be!”

Neal suppressed a grin, and ducked his head. It was probably better that he didn’t comment on her taste in men.

“Look, I’m okay with my life, really,” she said, shrugging lightly. “This is who I am. But I’m not in the mood for the third degree.”

“Did you ever consider the possibility that she just wants to catch up with you? You were close friends at an important part of your lives,” he offered, resting a hand on her shoulder and playing with a curl of her hair.

An inelegant snort escaped her. “Yeah, right. She could have caught up with a phone call or email if she’d wanted to. Heck, even the bachelorette party.”

He grinned. “Oh, yes, bonding over naked guys would be much more preferable than a stuffy wedding.”

Sara rolled her eyes.

“I think you should go.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she gaped at him. “What? Why should I?”

Neal smiled softly and squeezed her hand. “Show her that you’re happy. I can go with you—I happen to know that I make a good date.”

“You mean, try to make her jealous.”

He gave her a suggestive grin. “It’s all in one’s perspective. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

“In what world do you live in, where a wedding is fun?” Sara mock-grumbled, then eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not planning on stealing the silver, are you?”

“Ouch,” he replied, holding a hand over his chest. “That really hurts. But no, I’d be going for _you_. Plus, it’s The Plaza. There’s bound to be good food and dancing. Think of it as a night out on the town, on someone else’s dime. Who can say no to that?”

She chewed on her lip.

“And you can privately mock her choice in wedding dress and every other tacky over-the-top decoration she’s bound to be spending a ton of money on,” he added.

Sara chuckled and smiled. “I’ll think on it. You sure you want to go? You don’t have plans—some secret plan to make a daring escape to a tropical island?”

“Hmmm… I’ll have to check my calendar. But offhand, I think I’m available,” he replied with a wink.

Sara put down her glass and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I could be persuaded. After all, it’s not every day I get to show up with Neal Caffrey on my arm.”

“See? Now you’re getting it.”

**Six Months Later**

“What are you wearing to the wedding?”

“What?” Sara sat up in bed, tugging at the sheet to cover herself.

Neal raised an eyebrow, and trailed a finger down her arm. “I asked, what are you wearing to Amanda’s wedding? While I don’t want to clash with whatever you’re wearing, I also don’t want to come off as one of those couples that show up matching.” 

She stared at him in disbelief. “You remember that?”

He shrugged. “I put it down on my calendar.”

“You _ran away_ to a tropical island, Neal. We broke up— _if_ you could even consider that we were together then.” She shook her head. “What makes you think I want to go now? Or that I even RSVPed?”

“Did you?”

Sighing, the sheet slipped from her hand. “Yes.”

“So, just put my unexpected vacation out of mind for now, and answer me this—do _you_ still want to go? Do you care enough to go see her and say ‘hi’ and possibly enjoy the night or does it even matter to you anymore?”

She was quiet.

“This isn’t about me, Sara. I’ll only go with you if you want me to,” he said softly.

She let out a short laugh. “Yeah, because going to a wedding alone is fun.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I’ve crashed a couple, and what better time to do it when most of the guests don’t know each other?” he asked, smirking at her and she rolled her eyes. Picking up her hand, he interlaced their fingers, giving her a small squeeze. “No one will know you’re alone, unless you make a big deal of it. It’s not a high school dance where you’ll be a wallflower if you don’t have a date. Trust me, there will be plenty of people there who have dates just for the sake of having them, and they’ll be mingling. Heck, think of it as a business dinner and network. There’s bound to be some pretty important people there.”

“Do I want to know whose weddings you crashed? Or why?”

He flashed her a bright smile. “Probably not, but don’t worry, nothing was stolen.”

Sara eyed him warily. “Sure… except some poor girl’s heart, I bet.”

“Allegedly,” he replied, smiling innocently.

She scoffed. “Right. So why would I want you to go with me, then?”

Neal sighed. Sara usually wasn’t insecure, but in this instance, she felt threatened—not just because she felt she had to defend the choices she’d made, but now she wasn’t sure he would have her back if he accompanied her. She was fierce and strong, and didn’t care what people thought of her, but she was only human. It was only so long until her armor cracked.

“Because friends are there for each other, and deep down I know you want to go, and you need someone there to back you up.” 

It had been easier for her to see him as a friend when they got back together. She’d been too hurt by his jaunt to Cape Verde to really take him back. He’d been okay with that; his life was too tenuous to permit anything more.

Except they were both fooling themselves, he realized right then.

They were having fun, sure, but there had always been something there—something _real_ behind all the banter and flirting. Could it be more?

“Okay, but if you so much as look at another woman… I _will_ kick your ass,” she threatened, fixing him with a pointed look.

He smiled softly to himself. That was fine with him. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I only have eyes for you.”

*~*~*~*

Sara had to admit it was beautiful, but she really didn’t want to know how much this wedding cost. It was as over-the-top as she had expected, although more tasteful than she would have thought, given the obnoxious amount of money they obviously put into it. Honestly, even if she had the money, she probably would prefer something smaller and simpler.

There were flowers everywhere. Ivy covered the walls, and flowers dripped from the ceiling like chandeliers. It created a magical atmosphere as Amanda walked down the aisle. Neal, though, had been displeased that it had covered up the famed Italian Renaissance-style paintings on the ceiling.

And that was just for the ceremony.

They were now heading to the Grand Ballroom for the reception, after the cocktail hour that had been held in two huge foyers—each one big enough to hold a wedding on its own—and every surface was covered with either flowers or glitz.

The practical part of her screamed at the excess, knowing she could have bought a very nice townhouse for the money they were paying for one day’s festivities.

But it didn’t seem to faze the guests, most dripping in their own jewels. June had lent her a very lovely diamond and sapphire necklace, yet Sara still felt out of place amongst them. Neal, for his part, appeared in his element, oozing charm as they mingled, effortlessly jumping into varied conversations about art, politics, and travels around the world.

His own tales, heavily edited of course, enthralled many a wide-eyed woman. Both young and old listened in rapture; however, Sara knew better. It was hard not to notice the heads turning as he walked by. The younger women made no effort to disguise their wandering eyes, or the fact that they checked out his left hand, looking for a wedding ring. The catty side of Sara wanted to smack them, but she restrained herself.

Neal acted no differently than normal, smiling and giving them just enough to keep them interested and entertained, but not so far as to flirt. He seemed to know just when to touch her hand or wrap his arm around her waist for the other women to back off. 

She wasn’t normally a jealous woman, but it was hard not to feel a bit possessive since Neal was her… boyfriend?

Sara wasn’t sure if she could call him that, but what else did you call the one man you’d been with on and off for well over a year? They were keeping things casual, yet she knew very well both of them weren’t seeing anyone else. However rocky their history was, Sara still felt something for him. It was hard not to.

Except Neal was not the type of guy to settle down with, if she even wanted that.

...did she?

“Hey, _smile_ ,” he whispered in her ear, and squeezed her hand. “You look like you’re walking to your own funeral.”

She looked up at him, startled, then back to the line of people ahead of them. They’d been shuffling along for the past ten minutes in the receiving line. Who had thought it was appropriate to greet five hundred guests? The smart ones had skipped the line, and she’d wanted to as well, but Neal had firmly guided her towards the queue. It was likely that this would be the only time she’d get to see Amanda, but that didn’t make the wait any more bearable.

“Easy for you to say—you smile for a living,” she murmured.

Neal chuckled. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “We’re almost there.”

Sighing, she glanced around once more, trying to see if she recognized anyone else. Amanda had made lots of friends in college, surely she wasn’t the only one invited? Yet she hadn’t seen anyone, and right now, she wondered if she even wanted to see anyone else. Looking back at Neal, she watched as he stood there, quietly taking in everything with his eyes. Always observing, always knowing exactly what to say. He fit in anywhere.

“Would you go to your high school reunion?”

He blinked and shifted ever so slightly. If Neal ever had a tell, it was the absence of having one. He kept everything hidden. “That would be a little hard, seeing as I didn’t graduate high school.”

“If that didn’t matter, would you go?”

He turned, facing her, and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly that person anymore; plus, I don’t quite think my presence would go over so well.”

Sara had to grin. “What? The great Neal Caffrey couldn’t charm someone?" She laid her hands on his chest and tugged on the lapel of his coat. "This, I have to see.”

Grabbing her left hand, he dropped a kiss on the inside of her palm. “Some people are more open-minded and forgiving.”

“Yes, well, it helps when a certain painting is returned,” she pointed out, her mouth curling up.

“Recovered.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So, you wouldn’t go? There’s no one you’d want to see?” He nudged her, and they walked forward another few steps.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure my art teacher would be so proud to hear of my… accomplishments. And I’m quite certain that Jennifer Shaughnessy might not be too happy to see me, considering I left town before prom.”

Sara’s eyes widened. Neal brought his hand up to his neck, and smiled a little sheepishly. 

“Was she your girlfriend?”

He nodded. “Yeah, all of senior year. To say she had made plans would be an understatement. We weren’t that serious, we knew it wouldn’t last past high school, but still…”

“Oh, I bet she was mad.”

Neal smirked. “Hell hath a woman scorned.”

“I can empathize,” she replied wryly.

His eyes dropped, and his face softened. Intertwining their fingers, he gave her a small smile. “She’s not the one I’m worried about.”

Sara paused, staring at him silently. She’d been so mad. So hurt. But here they were. He knew better than to try and charm her. There was honesty between them now. 

How had a conman become the person she trusted? The one who knew her and comforted her?

She turned back to face the front of the line. “Apart from Jennifer, anyone else? Friends?”

“I guess maybe Ryan. We grew up on the same street. He had a single mom too, so we hung out a lot. Hustled pool when we were thirteen. He might be okay with everything… but honestly, it’s probably better that I don’t open up that can of worms. Too much to explain.”

Sara knew Neal could spin the situation however he wanted, but maybe now he’d grown tired of it. This was a new side of him.

“We’re getting close,” Neal remarked, nodding towards the bridge and groom they could now see ahead of a few couples in line.

Did Neal regret leaving his old life? His friends and family? Was he doing this because he couldn’t go back? Sara wondered if he finally realized what he’d lost by taking the path he did. People had been hurt. Too many secrets caused all sorts of problems.

But then he wouldn’t have met Peter and Elizabeth, Mozzie… or her.

It was a tough choice, though they couldn’t change the past, so she reasoned it wasn’t worth contemplating. Maybe things would quiet down. He’d seemed to like his life here in New York. Or so he’d said. Could she really trust him not to run off again when his time was up?

Amis amants. It was probably for the best.

They stepped forward, one couple away from the front, finally. Her stomach clenched and she took a deep breath. It was only Amanda. There was nothing to be afraid of—at least she didn’t have to explain away her past, like Neal.

“Sara!”

Neal hung back, shaking Robert’s hand as Sara moved in to hug Amanda. She looked just like Sara remembered, only older, and dripping with her own jewels. Her gown was typical, a sleeveless bodice that sparkled, covered in small crystals, but beautiful nonetheless.

“Congratulations,” she replied graciously.

“Thank you. Oh my god! I didn’t think you’d come. It’s so great to see you!” Her eyes moved over to Neal and widened. Sara smothered a grin. Okay, maybe it was worth coming with Neal. “Who is this?”

“Neal Caffrey,” he said smoothly, holding out his hand. “Congratulations. It was a beautiful ceremony. The interweaving of the floral selections with the candles and your choices in attire were ethereal. It was as if you transported us to another world, an enchanted forest, where you allowed us to float through the air with you. Absolutely exquisite, really.”

Her reaction was priceless, as Neal oozed charm to a perfect degree, his smile wide and his eyes bright. Mouth gaping just the slightest and eyes locked on Neal’s dazzling smile and sparkling blue eyes, she was clearly taken in by him. No woman could ever resist—especially in his tux.

“Why, thank you. I have to give credit to my wedding planner though, it was all her idea. I was just along for the ride!” she joked, then looked over to Sara and mouthed ‘wow.’ 

Sara smiled as Neal wrapped his arm around her waist, and she relaxed, enjoying the fact that Neal was hers. She didn’t care that he looked like a runway model, or that he could probably charm the pants off a blind woman. 

“Are the two of you married?” Amanda asked, glancing down at Sara’s left hand, where she held her clutch.

Sara froze. How did you explain their relationship? It was unconventional at best.

Neal and his silver tongue came to the rescue. “Not yet, but I’m wearing her down. You know what she was like in college—working all the time. She hasn’t changed, just married to her job now.”

Amanda laughed and Sara’s smile felt thin and frozen across her face.

“Yes!” Amanda’s eyes lit up. “I tried so hard to get her to enjoy herself. Oh, Sara, I’m so glad you came. We have to catch up later.”

Nodding absently, she smiled as Amanda leaned in to hug her again. “Of course. I can’t wait.”

“And don’t forget the bouquet toss later. I expect to see you there!”

Sara’s eyes froze like a deer in headlights. “What? Oh, no… I-”

“It’s tradition!” Amanda exclaimed, then pulled her back and whispered in her ear, “You’ll thank me later. Don’t let that one go!”

She stood there, momentarily stunned, as Neal shook Robert’s hand again, giving his congratulations once more. He then took her hand and led her into the ballroom.

“Shall I go for the garter, too?”

Sara looked at him sharply and he grinned, swinging her arm playfully. “It’d give us more chances that way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about it.”

*~*~*~*

“She seems happy,” Neal remarked quietly as they swayed to the soft music wafting through the ballroom.

Sara glanced over at Amanda and Robert. They were dancing in the middle of the floor, with matching smiles and eyes only for each other. There had been the usual funny and touching stories during the speeches, but what had surprised her was the look in Amanda’s eyes. She truly looked happy and in love with Robert.

“She does,” she murmured.

“Love works in mysterious ways,” he said, then spun her out with a small wink. “You never know who you’re going to fall for.” 

She shook her head, and smiled. Wasn’t that the truth? Amanda and Robert’s relationship was almost normal compared to theirs. A con man and insurance investigator? No one could have predicted that, least of all her. Returning to his arms, she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder.

Neither of them said anything, just continued to sway to the music, and Sara enjoyed the simple peace of the moment.

The song changed a moment later to something a little more upbeat, and she followed his lead, though it was nothing fancy as they lazily spun around.

“Are you happy?”

She stared into his eyes. The ballroom’s lights were low, and the blue of his irises shone bright and clear. The intensity she saw there made her pause, and a shiver ran through her. But she wasn’t scared by it, even as she felt him slowly tearing down her carefully built walls.

“Yes,” she finally answered. “Yes, I am.”

Neal pulled her close and she stilled, watching as he brought his hand up to cup her cheek. He leaned in and his lips touched hers softly. “That’s all that matters,” he whispered.

The music ended, and the lights brightened. Amanda’s maid of honor stepped onto the dance floor with a microphone.

“Ladies! It’s time for the bouquet toss!!”

Neal stepped back and grinned.

“Go get ‘em, Repo.”


End file.
